Fortified with Vitamins
by Hughesh4hercules
Summary: Something is up in Gotham, and it bleeds over into New York. Continued from LadyK d azrael's Pawn to Rook.


Damian, sometimes known as Rook, waited for classes to let out. Although showing his impatience was probably unbefitting of a Wayne and an al Ghul, he tapped his stylus in an irritated rhythm against his desk. Because his eyes were glued on the second hand of the clock he missed the peeved expressions of his classmates. School was ponderously boring, almost insufferable in its tedium. The subjects were laughable, despite it being an accelerated curriculum. Damian easily kept his place at the top of his year, if only because his excellence in some classes made up for his slightly less than stellar performance in literature.

However, no one could ever make the mistake of calling Damian Wayne a teacher's pet. His history teacher actually cringed whenever Damian opened his mouth to correct him. That reaction would almost make it worth raising his hand for once, because Damian rather thought the man would flinch so bad that he might fall. He was a jumpy fellow. What Damian did not know was that the teacher had only developed such tics since Damian was enrolled.

So, when not terrorizing his teachers, Damian waited for the day to end and the night to begin.

Tonight was particularly 'special' as things go. A lead in the case that Grayson was working on indicated that the supplier was working out of Gotham. After calling up his father, Grayson informed Damian that they would be heading into the city to shake down these contacts. Although he did not say any more, a perturbed and preoccupied expression ruled his face, even though Grayson tried to hide it behind jokes and grins. But even as he smiled, his lips were pressed closed, and the tension around his eyes was not from the grin. Certainly the lines that creased his forehead had another reason behind. Damian did not have the words to ask what caused Grayson's disquiet.

In part, because he had concerns of his own. Damian had not been back to the Batcave since becoming Rook, although not for lack of opportunity. So, he bounced back between his own unease and Grayson's worry. Each one made a fine distraction from the other, but neither was an exercise in pleasantry. That Batman and Robin were not following up on the lead in their own city, allowing Nightwing and Rook to do so, was troubling. That he and Grayson were not joining in whatever problems Batman and Robin were having could also be problematic. Damian did not understand the complicated relationship between Nightwing and Batman well enough to hazard a guess.

The electronic bell rang, jarring Damian out of his thoughts, having not even known that he had slipped into such a deep focus. He did not jump, he was too well trained for that, but for once he was not the first out the door. Damian slipped through the press of bodies in the hallway with all the ease of someone who had long attended school. Only his skill came not from walking these hallowed halls, shoulder to shoulder with other privileged young men and women in blazers and blouses, but from training as a child. He no more liked the experience of people carelessly rubbing against him now than he had in the past. It was a relief when the halls emptied, the crowd of students rushing out of the exits and off to their rides. Damian did not have a chauffeur waiting for him, no matter how much he informed Grayson of the necessity. Instead, he had been handed a bus and subway pass with a grin that was a bit too schadenfreude for Damian's liking.

His preoccupied thoughts did not end with the school day, nor did they dispel when a too cheerful Grayson greeted him. "How was your day?" Damian blinked at him, wondering why he asked this every single day he came home from school.

"Fine." He answered, same as he had the other times. Today, though, Grayson seemed unusually persistent.

"Do you have any homework?"

"No." He had done it all in class, there was no need to waste more time than necessary.

Damian grabbed a cookie from the counter and poured himself a glass of milk. Pennyworth sent a box of cookies every week, so Damian and Grayson had to eat them before the next batch arrived. Otherwise, they would find kitchen under siege by cookies. Damian had not particularly liked them at first, too sweet, but found they were marginally better with milk. He would never admit that eating a cookie with a glass of milk had become part of his everyday routine. He would never know that the cookies were specially fortified with all the vitamins and minerals that a growing crime-fighter needs.

"Any girls you like?"

Damian spared Grayson a look that clearly answered the question. In short, it spelled out 'Are you insane?' with a healthy amount of irritation thrown in to show that how little he liked the inquisition. Grayson defended his question with comically raised eyebrows and hands held up jokingly in surrender.

"When I was your age-"

"I'm not you." There was a strain in the room. It was then that Damian realized that Grayson was only trying to distract himself. Damian grunted, wishing that Grayson had chosen some other target, before adding, "Good thing, one of you is enough." Even though the words were harsh, his tone was almost apologetic.

Grayson knew him well enough to recognize an olive branch when it is offered. A smile stole slowly over his face, perhaps the first real one of the day. "Good thing, 'cause otherwise I'd have to share all the girls with you. "

Damian scoffed while Dick laughed.


End file.
